One Step at a Time
by BlackRabbit0
Summary: Nearly a year has passed since the destruction of the reapers and Shepard is along her way to recovery. The same can't be said for her mind though. With every passing day, she grows more discouraged and the nightmares seem to haunt her even more than it did before. She can hear the voices of those they've lost but she just wants to hear the voice of Turian the she loves.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: You'll have to pardon if this sounds OOC and if the grammar's off, but after playing Mass Effect 2 and 3, I REALLY wanted to get this out of my system.**

**Update: Okay I reread this - and you'll have to pardon how messed up this was, it was 4am and I had no caffeine in my system - and made some adjustments to the grammar as well as completed paragraphs I started but never finished**

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><p>Nearly a year has passed since the Reapers' destruction and the procedures and progress of reconstructing cities and colonies have made some moderate progress. Reaper tech still lay in ruins out on the streets in the view outside her window meaning progress in cleaning that up had been rather slow. Refugees come first obviously but perhaps something had happened that slowed it down even further. It was hard to say. She isn't in the action to tell.<p>

Jane pulls herself up onto her feet, knees ready to buckle and legs ready to break under her weight despite supporting herself on the metal bars marking her path. She looks behind her and sees her recovery has not been making much progress itself. She had barely stepped a foot from where she started half an hour ago. It may be some progress to some, but it's not enough. Not for her at least.

She remembers how her comrades had found her a year ago after wiping out the reapers. She had already decided by then that it was alright if she had died; it would've meant that she died in the line of duty, like their friends who had gave their lives to bring them to this point. But by some freak miracle, she had lived. And by another freak miracle Garrus and Tali found her under the rubble looking like a busted up rag doll. She couldn't speak, but she was ready to cry. Shepard's body was under so much numbing pain, but that wasn't it. It was knowing she'll live to see Garrus again. Then it went black.

"And I thought I was the one without a leg to stand on."

Her gaze shot to the door and she smiles at the visitor. Albeit the joke was bad timing, but coming from Joker she supposes she could let it go this one time. "It's been a while. Hope no one on board declared me dead just yet."

"We might as well since we haven't heard any news or word from you for months. Practically since our first visit." He limps into the room and takes a seat in a corner of the room, letting out a sigh of relief. "We got so damn famous that we don't even have time to visit the commander anymore."

Shepard smiles. It's nice to know that he didn't change much over the last year. War leaves scars and changes people in ways one couldn't believe. Broken bones and bullet wounds were one thing, but loss of those you loved and having lives hang on a thin thread was and always will be another matter. Then there are guys like Joker who never change, or maybe did change, but still have that quality that makes him the Joker they all know and love.

She eyes him carefully. From the looks of it, Joker has not been sleeping as much as he ought to. And from what he just said, everyone else has been working tirelessly to take care of things with the others and probably their own home planets. She bites back the bitterness and shame in her throat. "Well now you do." She laughs. Jane seats herself back in her wheelchair. "We've got a lot of catching up to do. Starting with your reason to visit."

"Hell yeah we do." He laughs. Joker quiets down, the rumbling laugh in his chest dying away. "It really is good to see you again, Commander. Last time we checked, you were just broken bones and wires." He puts a hand on her shoulder, a friendly gesture.

"And now?" She sighs a laugh.

"Now I'm not the only one who struggles to walk." He grins. "But knowing you, you could probably still shove a few mercs out the window while in a wheelchair." He stands up and begins to limp towards the door. "Nurse wants you back in your room by the way. Same ol' Commander, breaking rules unlike a certain Turian who may have a pole back up his ass."

The conversation continues as they make way to Shepard's room. According to Joker, the Normandy and its crew have been holding up well and have been on calls constantly. To settle disputes, to take care of deliveries, to defend ships with shipments of food, even to carry patients to another colony or hospital when the first hospital was too full. The Normandy didn't take too much damage thankfully, but because of that the Alliance and requests have been running the poor girl ragged.

As for his visit, it turns out everyone was on shore leave per Hackett's orders. The Normandy's crew has done enough apparently and could use the break. Besides, with only some of the mass relays in working order, they could only do so much. She decides to note it as a good decision for her crew's well-being.

"What about Garrus and everyone else? How are they doing?"

"Well I can't imagine having a pole up your ass as a healthy thing. And Liara decided to stick around Thessia to help rebuild her homeworld. Tali's still a bit uneasy around Geth, but from what she's said things are going smoothly. And she's more than happy to declare them better than Rachni."

Jane smiles, but she couldn't stop the small pangs of ache in her stomach. It's great to know everyone had been doing well. It wasn't great to know that she couldn't help them herself. "And EDI and you? Has anything progressed?"

A hand flies to the back of his neck and he chuckles. "I guess so. Though I'm not too wild about having the old files Mordin left in my room. I mean c'mon, you know me. Do you think I'd really need those… vids?"

"Not need, but want." Shepard replies. She lies back in her bed, a white blanket over her legs. "It good to know you guys are okay."

"Yeah… But we do miss our CO. Who else puts us through a shitstorm and push people out of windows?" Joker grins. He takes off his hat, his smile uncurling. "The old girl's been quiet without you and a few others. Most of the time we have to ask ourselves what would you do if we get ourselves in some trouble. EDI actually took taking a VI and reprogramming it into thinking _exactly _like you into consideration." Pause. "She didn't. Everyone decided we've had enough of your clones."

"Agreed. We don't need someone stealing the Normandy again."

"Or your man." He coughs, his gaze drifting quickly between objects in the room, avoiding Shepard's face. "Who by the way chose to drink himself stupid rather than visit you."

And that is probably for the best she noted. It has been a year since they've last seen each other. It's been a year since they've talked. Touched. Kissed. Nearly a year since she decided to become his one-Turian kind of girl. Shepard knew very well that it would wound Garrus if he didn't know how she was. But it could also wound him if he saw her current state.

Joker sees her sullen expression. He somehow hears that small sigh that doesn't even escape her with her breath. And he understands. "Commander. Truth is you still look like shit. Your body's healed without scars sure, but… Shepard, you've gone through a lot. I get it." He puts a hand on her shoulder as her face looks down at her blankets. He can see how her fingers curl into a fist, clenching her blankets so tight that she could practically tear through though with her nails. "I can't sleep either. I still dream of the people we could've saved and the friends we lost too. It's hard, but that's why we keep going. They died for our sorry asses."

She nods silently, forcing the tears back down her chest. The losses were unforgettable. And what was almost lost she's lucky to still have. But those dreams still haunt her. Even if the galaxy is safe, too many have died along the way. Mordin died curing the genophage, to correct his wrongs and to add a small light of hope of saving everyone. Thane died after fending off Kai Leng, his dying wish being a prayer for her to win the war. Legion died for his people, giving them the gift of individuality. Miranda died fighting the organization she had once been loyal to in order to save her sister and aid in stopping her father and Ceberus's progress. She still hears their voices in her dreams, calling her. She'd run and run to their voices, but once she's there, she just finds the shadows of their memories.

"I just… We lost a lot of good people, Joker. And knowing you could've saved them…" She shakes her head and hopes that he didn't hear the sad creak in her voice like she just did.

Joker knows what she would say. That there was a better way to handle the war and that they could've saved so much more. That they were lucky to be alive, but the friends they lost sometimes felt like too much of a price to pay. She knows that not everyone could be saved, but she tried anyways.

"Get some rest, Commander. We'll be here for a while. You're gonna want it if you're dealing with our crew."


	2. Chapter 2

"Another one."

"Another? Sir, that'll be your… Quite frankly, I lost count of how much you've been drinking."

He waves off the bartender's concern. If he was sober enough to hear and understand it, he could still drink a little more.

The bartender slides another glass to him, his head shaking. Clearly, this guy's got problems. Not sure if drinking was the best way to handle it, but what does he know? All sorts of people of all sorts of species have problems and often times they agreed that drinking was one way of forgetting they existed at least. For this Turian to be drinking so much while in uniform, he could only assume it was either the war efforts, some form of PTSD, or a loved one.

Another customer takes a seat next to the Turian. He notices his slightly lame walk and nods; this was the famous pilot flying the Normandy, Jeff. Stories were told about the Normandy, its crew, and their commander who made this peace possible. The man slides a glass of his best brandy to the man. "For the man who flew the old Normandy."

"Thanks." He grins. As the bartender left to take care of the other customers, Joker says "Maybe I should do more heroics if it means more free booze." He turns to the man next to him. "Wow. I didn't know Turians could actually look shitfaced."

"Not now, Jeff." He groans. Spirits, his head is spinning and it could be from the booze, lack of sleep, or something else. His head drops as he leans over the table, his environment spinning.

Joker gulps down his drink in one go, slamming the glass onto the concrete tabletop. The bar is sheltered in the remains of one of the fallen buildings, using concrete slabs as tables and rubble rearranged into furniture. There isn't a roof, but hey, they could finally see the starry night sky now. He then looks at Garrus. "So you didn't have time for our commander – your girlfriend – and now you don't have time to deal with me."

Garrus groans again, swirling the liquid in the glass. "Not. Now." He growls. "Look, I'm not in any mood to talk."

"The hell? Earlier when I said we were heading to Earth, you were ready to jump the airlock if it meant getting there faster. Then as soon as we land, you go and look through files to figure out where Shepard was and never even came to visit her once in the _week _we've been here. You've been coming back late either buzzed or looking like shit and it's just… That's not like you, Garrus. Everyone's worried." Pause. "And… She's been asking about you. Heck, I think it's practically the only thing she asks about now." As quickly as he sees the memory of Shepard's face at the absence of Garrus, he shakes it off, turning his attention back to the shitfaced Turian.

And he has no answer. Instead, Garrus asks for another drink to which the bartender hesitantly obliges. Silence falls between the two with Garrus mindlessly staring into his liquor and Joker folding his hands together, leaning over the table shaking his head.

Then the Turian decides to speak. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he's just ready to spill his heart out and a year's worth of silence out to the next person who asked. "I… I can't bear it." He starts. "Joker, it's been a year. Last time I saw her, she was barely conscious. She didn't even _look _like her. Seeing her like that was one of the most painful things I had to do. One year later, no messages. No news about her. No news from her. All I had were her cabin and that picture from the party." He takes a swig, letting the booze burn as it makes way to his stomach. "Why? I want to know why she hasn't talked any of us. To me! Before the final fight, we talked. Thought about retirement. Life together. Maybe even kids. So why?"

"Why the silence?" Joker turns to him, leaning on table. "Well. Since when has the Commander asked us to worry about her? She won't say it, but she sure as hell doesn't want her men fussing over her and stopping in the middle of a job to just visit her." He gives him half a grin. "Or maybe she's mad about that last minute insubordination and this is her way of putting you in the doghouse."

"Very funny."

"Thanks. I try pretty hard." He takes another shot. "But seriously, I shouldn't even have to tell you all this. You're not in good shape, she's not in good shape so go help each other out and visit her. Garrus, she's alive. You thought you were going to lose but you didn't." Joker stands up and pays for the drinks. "Look, I can't make you go see the love of your life. But I can at least try and guilt you into it. Besides, you know what's true." He looks back after a few steps. "It's true. There's no Shepard without Vakarian."

Garrus sits up at that.

"Yeah. That's right. I heard ya. We all know about the words that should've been left in your little love nest." And with that, he limps out the door for a good night's rest.

Garrus didn't even turn to watch the pilot leave. Instead he returns to the burning comforts of alcohol. Or tries to. In truth the alcohol's only comfort is the film reel of his time with Shepard over the last few years. It indulges him in her softness and lets him relive her kind and playful gestures. It would remind him of their promises and tenderness between each other.

It would let him remember everything about Shepard without the heartache.

Nothing felt right about leaving Shepard to run into the final charge alone. He cursed himself for managing to get critically injured just before reaching the beam and he still does now. He wanted to protect her that night or die trying. The day they found her, Garrus had never been more relieved. Tearing open his wounds while searching for her was worth it at the time. And it still is worth it. He could never get that image of her out of his head though. All the blood and open wounds and burns that ravaged her body. And through some miracle she lived to see the next day and apparently the next year. They both wouldn't have gone through so much pain if he had just gone with her he decided.

The bartender approaches the Turian, sliding him a glass of water. Must've overheard the conversation since he had this understanding look on his face. "It's ah… Probably not my place to say, but if you couldn't have gone to her before, maybe you should go with her now."

Garrus glances at the glass of water then back at the green swill in his hand. Joker has point. And this guy too. He didn't want to admit it, but in the midst of everything he had been running starting from that first visit to the hospital. Garrus couldn't bear to look at Shepard in her state. Not when she could barely see herself. And just like how Shepard never messaged any of them about her current status, he never found it in himself to message her. The excuse was that she needed to pour her efforts into recovering, not sending messages out. Spirits, he is not the brightest Turian he mentally declared.

He takes the glass of water and raises it.

"To Garrus Vakarian. Codename: Archangel, former C-Sec officer, and one crap boyfriend."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: It's a bit messy, but I'm out of practice when it comes to writing anything these days. Plus midterms don't allow me to do things I actually want to at my best quality. Wow, even that last sentence didn't even make sense. Well, enjoy!**

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><p>Every night it's the same dream.<p>

_Shepard_

The same dark woods.

_Shepard-Commander_

The same voices.

_Commander._

The same ending.

_Siha_

She stands alone, uniform in her armor and her rifles at her back. This world is still distorted and dismal, as if her senses have been drowned in water. She had nightmares like this back on the Normandy. Back when Earth was first attacked. That dream started to change since then. With each dream came more voices. More bodies and shadows fading and flickering, relocating to different spots amongst the trees every time.

She would still dream of that child that she had tried to save back on Earth. The child that said he could not be helped. Shepard remembers him boarding a shuttle and how relieved she felt watching that shuttle launch with the refugees in it. It gave her hope. A sense of relief. It told her that the Reapers weren't as threatening as they supposedly were. They had a chance of beating the Reapers and taking back their home. Taking back their futures.

And then it came crashing down.

The shuttle, just as it had lifted into the air, was destroyed by the Reapers before her eyes. And by then, she had grown numb. She had no tears. No words to say. Her chest was tight, breaths shallow. Shepard clenched her fists. She wanted to take that leap of fate, screaming while she shoots down all of the Collectors and Marauders as an attempt to take back everything they took.

Then she lets go. All she could do was walk away from the sight and hope that the ship could get them out of the carnage as soon as possible. As much as she hated the idea of leaving Earth and everyone on it to fend for themselves, she had to.

But she didn't want to admit to partially wanting to.

Watching her world fall to the Reapers around her has left her always feeling hapless. Helpless. Everything came down to her now. She had to convince the Council to work together and rally the galaxy's fleets and troops. Shepard had to make decisions, most of which were the hardest to make. Some decisions she chose solely to remind her that this war was more than algorithms; that they were humans, Turians, Asari, Quarians, Krogans and much more. Things had to be done, but Shepard was one human. And yet, somehow, she had done it. After so much bloodshed, loss, deaths of great comrades, and harsh consequences, she had defeated the Reapers and took back the galaxy's futures.

But the old friends that she now sees before her remind her of the price she had to pay: their lives.

She can't see them, but she could tell it was them. Shepard has been missing them long enough to recall just what they looked like. Their shapes. How they moved and spoke. All the little things that made and still makes them the comrades she grew to respect.

The whispers come rushing in, drowning out her own voice with their haunting whispers. There is so much at once she couldn't tell what they were saying. All the words were blending and colliding with the others, drowning out her thoughts. She starts to back up from the circle of ghosts, holding her head in her hands. Thin locks of red become trapped in between her fingers. The whispers are getting louder. Much louder. And they're calling out to her. And the old memories drudge up and resonate through her mind.

_I made a mistake! I made a mistake…_

_Shepard-commander, does this unit have a soul?_

_I'm proud of you, child… _

_Siha…_

This was and is the part where she runs. She rushes out of the circle of friends and deeper into the woods, her hands over her ears. Her thoughts come rushing back as if a dam has burst, but it condemned her to the doubts that had been singing in her ears since the day they found her.

_I did what I had to do. Everything that happened was to save our futures. I know it was my fault they died, but I know I can't save everyone. I'm just one human; what am I supposed to do? Millions of lives were lost but there were trillions to be saved! Trillions that counted on me to make the right decisions in the war! I couldn't just wait for a better alternative! I… _

She drops to her knees and her hands clutch at her chest. These thoughts are often suffocating even in her dreams. They wouldn't give her the luxury of relief and gratefulness. They wouldn't let go of her mistakes. Instead, they throw it back into her face relentlessly and force her through these nightmares. She knows she can't do this to herself. She did what she thought was right. The galaxy and everyone in it are safe from the Reapers.

_I did the right thing… I did, right? _

She reaches the end of her nightmare, green eyes locking onto the child standing before her. He stands still as usual, his face young and eyes wide. As the boy speaks, flames begin to lick his body and consume him. Those flames become the only colors in this dismal wonderland.

The commander lowers her head, numb once more. No matter how many times she hears those words, no matter how many times she suffers this dream, she would always break at this child's last words.

"You could've saved me."

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><p>She wakes up in cold sweat, her heart pounding and her lungs burning as she tries to catch her breath. Jane looks around frantically for a moment, taking hold of reality. She's in her hospital room and she's actually glad. Her head drops into her hands, wiping the sweat off her face. She collects her breath and clears her head, running her fingers through her hair and brushing it all back.<p>

She holds so much loathing towards those dreams and herself. Those dreams would tell her of what she had done. They would terrorize her with her fears and reminders of the sacrifices made to win the war. Of the collateral damages and the personal losses. The choices she made during the war will have an effect on the future they worked so hard to salvage and it would put into question on whether or not she did the right thing. If she did what was best. Everything came down to what she did.

But what if the galaxy needs her now more than ever?

These thoughts rush in like a river after harsh rain. Her first thoughts upon waking up from that dream are about if she made the right choices and if they were worth it. Now she thinks about how the galaxy needs her now more than ever. The Reapers may have been destroyed, but there are scars on every planet. In every bit of recorded history. About how the great Commander Shepard allowed for the genophage to be cured. About how she almost couldn't convince the Geth and the Quarians to get it together and cooperate for the war. About how her decisions had the potential to wipe out entire races in a short-run or a long run. About the haunting monstrosities the Reapers made out of their own people.

_I can't do this… _

As fast as her body would allow her, she leaves her room.

And as soon as she did, her eyes greet the sight of dawn yet again.


	4. Chapter 4

**A bit rushed and messy but hey, it's done! Enjoy!**

Commander Shepard never gives up on anyone. If they could be saved then she _will _save them. That resolve carried her through countless life-threatening missions over the last three years and it was – and still is – part of the reason why Garrus admires her. She has an unrelenting kindness, one that would drive her to do the impossible. The commander has a kind heart, but she has the mind to lead and the courage to fight. He trusted her decisions and he would always trust her future decisions. He would sometimes question if they were right, but Shepard always had a reason. It was hardly because it was simply the right thing to do, but to her, it offered the better potential outcome.

Countless times she had been faced with the hardest decisions. Some were made without a second thought. The others he knew she sometimes doubted the choice she made and found herself with no way to cope other than to hope for the best. He remembers those times so clearly because he could always see her expression when she made them. Saving her team instead of the council was one where she never hesitated. Her fierce expression said it all. That she would rather die saving those she trusted than those who doubted her.

Letting Garrus lead a squad of comrades during the suicide mission was another one. It was small but he caught a quick flicker of concern in her eyes before she charged into the fray with Jack as her shield. He knew what she was thinking at the time. That someone may not make it. That Garrus might not make it. He tried to reassure her and nodded confidently, but that didn't seem to help. He remembers watching her little habit of biting her lower lip and her eyes drifting to the ground as she turned towards Jack. For a moment – just before she readied her rifle - he thought she whispered "Please be safe." And then he watched her back disappear into Jack's biotic shield.

The last one was leaving Garrus to charge into the beam so activate the Crucible. It was so clear that neither of them wanted to die. That it was going to be a bitch living without the other. He remembers telling her to take him with her. To let him come with her in what could've been their final suicide mission. She didn't hesitate to tell him no. She didn't hesitate to order him to stay back and be safe. She didn't hesitate until she looked into his eyes one last time. Shepard was absolutely exhausted, but her bright green eyes glimmered with hope and heartache. Hope for him and the rest of galaxy to carry on into a safe future and the heartache of knowing she may never see him again. Her touch lingered, her fingers lightly tracing his talons. And then she took off with such ferocity that Garrus never had the chance to stop her.

And those were the only ones that Garrus was there for. Who knows how hard the other decisions hit her? Shepard hardly lets it show that these decisions were having some type of impact on her. She had no choice but to keep things professional. Mourning for those who had died had to wait; the Reapers were relentless in their attacks and there would be so much to mourn that nothing would be done. He had done his best to help ease her burdens. To make sure she was alright and that she would get some good nights of rest. He doubts they even helped though.

And he has every right to.

The afternoon sun beams into the room through the windows, basking everything in it an orange-yellow glow, casting long looming shadows. He stands at the doorway, peeking through the crack in the door. Damn thing probably isn't fully functioning to close all the way. He had been standing there for a good half an hour, watching.

He catches a glimpse of fiery red hair rise. It's grown out since the last time he came to visit. Soft locks reach her shoulders, the tips probably tickling her skin every time a breeze blew. She pulls herself up, leaning on the railing for support. Her ankles and knees seem to bend and crumple under her weight, her toes curling against the floor in the attempt to keep her balance. Her teeth clench in frustration and she growls at the floor, angry with herself and her lack of progress.

Garrus is awed but he can't help feeling some sense of pity for her. That's probably the last thing she needs. He watched her try to take three steps forward without buckling over and the sight has been both amazing and saddening. The day they found Shepard, half her body had been crushed by the rubble and through some miracle she made it through with a fractured pelvis and broken legs. Unfortunately, Shepard had been forced to spend a year lying bed. The cybernetics in her body barely sustained her at the time; anymore strain on her body and her name would be on the memorial wall with their friends.

New cybernetics are now installed in her legs, but they aren't as great as the ones Cerberus left in her. These are a little heavier and her muscles struggle in adapting to their structure. Healing on and around them was one thing, but getting her legs to move with the technology has been nothing but a pain in the ass to achieve.

He knows her too well and hesitates. He could walk in right now and help her but she may not take it. There's a good chance she doesn't want him to see her in this sorry state. To see her useless and unable to move as a commanding officer should. She probably didn't want to see the look on his face if he saw her like this. It would probably wound her even deeper.

No. He can't do this now. He has already made up his mind with Joker's help. Garrus needs to do this. For her sake and his. He needs answers and to pick up the pieces of himself he missed. The pieces that had been with her this whole time. He needs to be there for her more than ever.

"How long have you been standing there?"

He snaps out of his daze and sees her staring right at him, green eyes bearing both anger and shame. It's like a spike to the heart seeing that kind of expression directed at him, but he knows why and steps into the room. "I should ask you the same thing." His attempt to sound light has been weighed down by a sense of sullen sadness.

Garrus stands before her, looking down at his petite commander. His mandibles flick and flutter, unable to mask how happy he is to see her again. To be this close to her for the first time in a year feels like a dream. With a gentle talon, he tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and immediately her expression softened. Gentle fingers reach up to his hand and she nuzzles into his palm. "I'm sorry." She whispers. "That after months of not hearing anything from me, you have to see me like this instead."

A hand reaches for her waist and he guides her to the wheelchair sitting in the corner. She sits down and smiles at him, though it is wry and empty. She doesn't know what to say or feel. A part of her is happy - ridiculously happy to see him again. It makes her want to tackle him down and kiss him like she never kissed him before. But another part of her is ashamed that Garrus, who saw her as a strong officer when he wasn't looking at her as his girlfriend, has to see her while she is weak and useless like an infant.

Garrus says nothing and watches her carefully, taking in every little detail about her. Her fiery hair has grown longer than he remembers. Her light sun-kissed skin has paled over the last few months, almost hiding some of her old and new scars perfectly. She looks thinner compared to when he last saw her. And the way she used to carry herself devolved into something defeated and heavy-hearted. She looks so fragile now and he fears that she would break at any moment. The fierce spark that once flashed in her eyes are dimmed and that makes him want to cradle her in his arms and hold her tight.

"I… I don't know what to say." She admits.

"It's okay." He assures her, holding her fingers gently and running his thumb over them. "I know how hard it's been." He notices how she looks up at him, curious but hinting fear. She's probably expecting to hear of how much has been done and how little progress has been made. "Shepard, I know that look. You had it on you for so long while we were trying to prepare ourselves for the Reapers. Do I need to get you drunk to talk about it or could we follow protocols for a few minutes?"

She only nods and looks out the window, staring at the wreckage and the past's havoc shadowing the streets as the sun sinks. "They did this to our worlds, Garrus. It's been a year since we've destroyed them and it's still here. Looking at this is like salt to the wound." She squeezes his hand and bites her lower lip. "We may have saved the galaxy, but… The price of war was too much. So many lives lost…" Her voice is hushed and dry. "So many sacrifices made. And even now. Even now, when it's all over, we're still fighting to survive. To get back to the livelihoods we once had." Her pleading green eyes meet his starry blue. "I need to help in the efforts, Garrus. And don't tell me that I don't have to." Her voice shakes and her eyes glisten. "The last time I didn't help, Miranda died. I could've helped her! The last time I was incapable Thane ended up giving his life for us! When I couldn't make a decision or do anything, someone paid a price for it!" She's sobbing, elbows on the arm of her chair as she furiously wipes her tears with a single hand.

The Turian doesn't give her an incredulous look or express pity. He understands her. What he had to do for Primarch Victus was just a taste of Shepard had to do for the last three years. Every decision came and will come with an opportunity cost and when the cost is a chance to save billions of lives, the line between what's right and what's best blurs. Between then and now he still doesn't know what to do with gray.

He holds her hand and brings it to his mouth, growling gently against her palms. He knows how it feels to be unable to do anything. He couldn't bring much aid in defending Palaven or evacuating his family. He couldn't do anything to help Shepard when she was under lockdown right before the Reapers attacked her planet. He couldn't run with her into the final charge to the conduit. It's not easy sitting around and twiddling your thumbs when there are lives and populations on your shoulders. Something always have to be done and even if the no one needs you, they need as much effort and manpower as they can scrape together.

"Thane, Mordin, Anderson, Legion, Miranda, and Ashley… They're all dead from fighting for our cause." She's calmed down, but tears still run down her cheeks. Her expression is wry, the corner of her lips being forcefully tugged into a frown. She can't find the words or rather she can't speak them. But she tries. "I can't… I can't waste their sacrifices. They've fought so hard for what they believed in. For the lives that would probably never know of the things they did. They're the ones who helped save our futures. Not me-"

"Shepard." Garrus interrupts her and touches his forehead to hers. This display of affection would calm both of them down during the more stressful times of the war. Right now, he hopes it would still have the same effect as it did before. "They weren't the only ones. We all fought for our futures. I fought for our future together, but you, Shepard… You're the one who made saving our future possible. Thane and Mordin… All our friends. They helped _you _save our future. They knew what was at stake and dedicated their lives to it. Shepard, these bullets were bigger, they're harder to dodge. Our friends willingly took those bullets for not just you but everyone else." He can sense her breathing slowing down and presses his mouth to her jaw. "You did it, sweetie. Nothing was wasted. It looks bleak now but remember we took the whole galaxy through hell and back." He faces her again and lifts her face by the chin, letting their eyes meet. "It's bleak now, but I know this will go right. Both you and the galaxy need a little more time to heal. Just take it one step at a time."

She's quiet, but she leans her head into the nook under his chin and on his shoulder. Tears quietly drip from her eyes down his armor, but through puffy eyes and sniffles, she smiles. It's a weak whisper, he hears her telling him "Thank you, Garrus. I'm glad neither of us are at that bar right now."

He lets out a low chuckle and hugs her, his arms firm around her tiny waist. "Me too. Because I really want to see what a turian-human baby looks like."

She pulls away and kisses him deeply, stroking his mandibles with gentle fingertips. He lets out a low purr, warmth welling up in his chest at the softness that is Shepard. They've both longed for this for far too long and only when they needed air did they pull away. She smiles at him, that warm glimmer of hope brightening her beautiful eyes. He smiles back, mandibles flicking briefly. He wanted this for so long and now he finally has it: her smile. The Shepard he fell in love with.

She laughs and runs her fingers along his jaw. She touches her forehead to his and kisses the bridge of his nose. This was one of the thousands of reasons she fell for him. How he was there for her, always watching as her Archangel. And this is how it will always be, no matter what happens. "One step at a time, Garrus."


End file.
